Page 15 of Fugitive Flirtation

At the mention of his father, David turns white as a sheet. I almost feel a twinge of sympathy for him but then think better of it. He climbs in the back without complaining. He’s lucky, he could have been thrown in with his buddies, tied up and packed like sardines in the back of the other car.

We make our way to Ace’s office in silence. As soon as we arrive, David gets dragged out of the back seat. He shuffles pitifully inside between two of Ace’s men.

The office is bustling with activity, people milling about and talking in low voices. I spot Ice in the corner, deep in conversation with a man I assume is the sheriff.

Ace guides me to a chair and tells me to wait. I sit down, my nerves on edge. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but I know that whatever it is, it’s going to change everything.

Minutes later, the door opens again, and Blackwell Senior walks in. He’s an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered, with a neatly trimmed beard and piercing eyes. He surveys the room, his gaze landing on his son.

“David,” he growls. “What have you done?”

David seems to shrink under his father’s gaze, his shoulders hunching. “I… I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t… I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

Blackwell Sr. shakes his head, disappointment etched on his face. He turns to Ace. “I assume you have evidence of my son’s involvement in this?”

Ace nods. “It’s all there. Bank records, security footage, everything.”

As Blackwell Senior sighs and shakes his head, I feel a sense of dread wash over me. What if he finds a way to turn this around on me? What if he uses his influence to make all the evidence in my favor go away?

But then I catch Ace’s eye, and he gives me a reassuring nod. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I have to trust that the truth will come out, that justice will be served.

The room falls silent as Blackwell Senior sits across from Ice, who hands him a thick file. He turns the pages, his expression unreadable. A few minutes later, he closes the file and looks to the sheriff standing next to the desk.

“I want to press charges,” he says, his voice firm. “Against my son and anyone else involved in this scheme.”

Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost dizzying. I feel like I can breathe again for the first time in weeks.

As the sheriff starts to read David his rights, I catch Ace’s eye once more. He gives me a small smile, and I feel a rush of gratitude toward his team.

He may still have to turn me in, but I know, at the end of the day, I’ll be a free woman.

11

We’re halfway to Miami when I finally break the tense silence.

“Alicia, I owe you an apology.” My voice is gruff, the words feeling almost foreign as they leave my lips. Admitting fault has never come easy for me.

She turns to me, her eyes guarded and skeptical.

“For what, exactly?” Her tone is clipped, laced with lingering hurt and distrust.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, choosing my words carefully. Vulnerability doesn’t sit well with me, but I know I need to open up if I want to make things right. “For doubting you. For thinking you were guilty.” The admission leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but it’s the truth.

Alicia remains silent, her gaze fixed resolutely out the passenger window. The distance between us feels like a vast chasm, one I’m not sure I can bridge.

“You can’t blame me for thinking the worst when you tried to run,” I offer, attempting to justify my actions. Old habits die hard.

Her head whips around, eyes flashing with defiance. “As if you could blame me for trying to run! I was scared, Ace. Scared of going to jail for something I didn’t do.” Her voice trembles with emotion, and I can see the fear she’s been carrying etched into the lines of her face.

“I know, but…” I trail off, trying to find the right way to explain the tangled mess of thoughts and emotions swirling within me. How do I make her understand the instincts that have kept me alive all these years? “You have to see it from my perspective. You moved the money, Alicia. That didn’t exactly scream innocence.” The words sound hollow, even to my own ears.

She’s quiet for a moment, staring out the window at the passing scenery. The weight of our words hangs heavy in the air. “I panicked,” she says softly, her voice tinged with regret. “I thought that I needed to freeze the money. I didn’t want them to move it again. I believed that once I got my hands on the money, I could prove my innocence somehow.”

I nod, understanding the desperation that must have driven her actions. In my line of work, I’ve seen enough to recognize the signs. She was grasping at straws. “I get it. You were backed into a corner, trying to find a way out.”

“Exactly.” She turns back to me, her expression softening as our eyes meet. There’s a vulnerability there that catches me off guard. “I never meant to mislead you, Ace. I was just… I was desperate. I would have tried just about anything to clear my name.”

“I know that now.” The realization settles in my gut like a lead weight. I reach over, taking her hand in mine, offering what little comfort I can. “And I’m sorry for not trusting you. I should have had more faith.”

---